


Distance

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: And not this pairing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, but in the past, not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 02:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10607562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Normally, Hux maintains distance. But for once, he's slipped up.





	

Anyone but him. Anyone. It could have been anyone in the whole galaxy, but it had to be - _him_. 

Hux had strenuously avoided the urge to ensure he ended up dead. Instead, he’d made sure their paths never crossed. Kept things moving in the background, ensuring assignment rotations kept him as _far_ from him as possible. Avoided any possible visit that could make their paths cross. Retasked officers to ensure no holo-meeting ever forced him to hear that voice again.

He’d done so well. A small amount of pain in keeping track of him - like needing to know where the poisonous bug was in the room - and that level of vigilance and awareness prevented any accidental exposure. 

Until now.

He’d kept his face together, although he’s aware he probably looked like he’d swallowed a boot. He’d forced his voice (reedy, to his ears, young… _immature_ ) out, and concluded the meeting as fast as he could. 

It was his own fault. He’d been so preoccupied with the Starkiller that… it had just not… he’d…

Back to his rooms, and he’d typed a series of orders out quickly for his senior personnel to manage without him. He knew (oh, he knew) they’d all wonder what had spooked him so. What had sent the nearly indefatigable General Hux scampering with his tail tucked, taking a personal day and refusing to speak to anyone. 

He _never_ took a personal day. Never.

So now they’ll all be whispering their suspicions, and his control over them will be weakened. His professional image is tainted, and then there’s the part where his heart has _not stopped banging inside his chest, begging to be let out_. 

Hux claws his short, neat nails in long, neat lines up the fabric of his pants, listening to the scratch. He wants to scrub off his whole _skin._ Every inch of it feels wrong, and dirty, and disgusting. Every hair pricks like insects are crawling over him, and he wants to scream himself hoarse and smash his head into the bulkhead until it caves in. (Ship, him, whichever comes first.)

His head whips around in alarm when the door opens, and he sees Kylo there. 

(Kylo knows. It… he knows. He had to tell him some of it, but not all. Hux couldn’t live knowing someone knew. Someone who isn’t _him_ , or… **him**.) 

The Knight walks slowly in, and Hux feels the closing space as a threat, even though - even though it’s _Kylo_ \- and he scoots backwards, hitting the wall. 

“Hux…”  


“N-no…”  


“Hux, I know you’re distressed. I want to help. Can I help?”  


No. Not without going back in time and _undoing_ things. He shakes his head, and shudders from head to toe. Maker, he wishes it could be undone.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to help you come back down. Is it okay for me to be here? I just… worry about you being alone…”  


Honestly. Hux sort of wishes he could close his eyes and just drop dead instantly, but he also doesn’t. He _wants_ to feel better, but right now he’s… it’s…

“Can I sit beside you?”  


His nostrils flare, and he nods. More to get him to stop talking, than to agree. The proximity makes his heart race all the faster, and then there’s an arm reaching and Hux _yelps_ and leaps off the bed, blaster in his hand before he can think it through.

“Okay… no touching. I promise, I won’t hurt you,” Kylo says, sounding alarmed, but not angry. His hands are lifted, his posture non-threatening.  


In his right mind, Hux would be touched. He is not in his right mind. With effort, he forces himself back down onto the bed, putting the blaster away.

“You look like you’re making yourself sick. Would… would it be okay if I get you a blanket? I don’t need to touch you, if you don’t want it. I’m not here for any other reason than to help you feel better.”  


Hux considers, then nods. He does feel worn empty and cold. Maybe a blanket would help? He watches as Kylo rises, looks around, and then removes his shawl instead. He holds it gently out, waiting for the nod before he wraps it around his shoulders, carefully minimising their contact. 

The fabric smells of Kylo, and his fingers tangle into it, snuggling it tight around him. He’s just… it was a lot to process, and he’s been in denial about this, even to himself, for so, so long. He just needs to work it all through, in private, where it’s safe. 

Hux looks up at the worried man, and realises… he dropped everything to make sure Hux wasn’t alone. He’s done everything he can think of to reassure him, and he’s not at all disgusted, or horrified with him. If anything, he’s self-righteously pissed on Hux’s behalf. 

Slowly, the panic ebbs, and he lets his knee touch Kylo’s. A single gesture of gratitude, and Kylo doesn’t push, even now. 

“I thought he was dead.”  


“No,” Hux manages to reply. “Just… kept him away from me.”  


Kylo nods. 

The heat from the Knight’s body lingers in the fabric, the smell, the roughness under his fingertips…

“Whatever you need.”  


“Just… stay. It… helps.” He isn’t sure he wants to cuddle, not yet. But he will. He did before, he will again. He will _not_ let him **win**.  



End file.
